


The Scrying Glass

by LenaLawlipop



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Destiny, Fate & Destiny, First Kiss, Found Family, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-15 06:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29680089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LenaLawlipop/pseuds/LenaLawlipop
Summary: They had reunited after that argument, much like they always did. Jaskier had set out to find him, and his feet had brought him right to the Witcher's Path. He hadn't questioned it, not really, because that was what Jaskier did. Jaskier left, and he came back whenever he wanted, and it usually didn't seem to matter if they had argued the last time they'd seen each other. Geralt hadn't been sure if he'd gone too far this time, but whether he had or not, there Jaskier was at the beginning of spring, and they had started to travel together again... Almost like nothing had happened at all.Months had gone by, and it was late into the summer by the time they stumbled into the mirror.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 4
Kudos: 94
Collections: GRB2020 Team Works





	The Scrying Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaand this is my other entry for the Geraskier Reverse Bang 2020! This story came to me almost immediately after seeing the image and prompt, and let me tell you, it's been so much fun to write!  
> This was all inspired by [Jenniferb](https://jenniferb-art.tumblr.com/)'s beautiful pictures, which you can see below.  
> A huge thanks to [Bekyll](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bekyll) for helping to beta read this story, especially in such a rush! <3  
> If you'd like to share this fic, you will find a tumblr post for it [here](https://lenalawlipop.tumblr.com/post/644026925578338304/the-scrying-glass-lenalawlipop-the-witcher) and a tweet [here](https://twitter.com/LenaLawlipop/status/1364644915045670917). Thanks!

It was strange, knowing a human for a long time.

It didn't feel that long, to Geralt. He wondered when he'd got so used to his own extended life, when he'd stopped counting years and started counting decades. Knowing Jaskier for two decades felt like nothing, almost, if he didn't think much about it. To Jaskier, obviously, that wasn't the case.

They had reunited after that argument, much like they always did. Jaskier had set out to find him, and his feet had brought him right to the Witcher's Path. He hadn't questioned it, not really, because that was what Jaskier did. Jaskier left, and he came back whenever he wanted, and it usually didn't seem to matter if they had argued the last time they'd seen each other. Geralt hadn't been sure if he'd gone too far this time, but whether he had or not, there Jaskier was at the beginning of spring, and they had started to travel together again... Almost like nothing had happened at all.

Months had gone by, and it was late into the summer by the time they stumbled into the mirror.

Well, not the mirror. It wasn't something as mundane. The vendor that had given it to Jaskier, claiming that it was a job for a Witcher, had certainly thought it was a mirror. However, Geralt knew a scrying glass from a piece of reflective material. It was a fascinating one, too. Bigger than he'd ever seen, and capable of working even if the user didn't have magic of their own. Jaskier was fascinated at first, though Geralt noticed a tiny flicker of something in his eyes... perhaps despair, perhaps anger, or disappointment. But there was no denying that he found his destiny intriguing.

Geralt... not so much. His image in the scrying glass was a simple one. Him, riding on Roach, and searching for something. On the one hand, he could almost convince himself that it was a good omen, that he was right — he'd managed to save his relationship with Jaskier after the dragon quest, and he might be able to do the same with Yen. On the other hand... There was no knowing how long that could take. The scrying glass was powerful, but it would need a more experienced mage to be more precise than that.

It didn't help that Jaskier and Yennefer got along like water and oil. Predictably, the bard was not happy to hear Geralt's plans. Geralt wasn't sure why Jaskier was so angry that he wanted to apologize when he'd spent the last two decades trying to make the Witcher more amiable toward others, but he wasn't a complete idiot either — whatever it was about, Jaskier was offended. He wasn't good at hiding his emotions on a good day, but the acid responses and dry humor didn't leave room for interpretation anyway.

It was then that they crossed paths with Eskel.

His brothers had spent the winter making sure he knew how rude he'd been to the bard and Yennefer. Finding them while on the Path was always a respite from the solitude, but it wasn't a surprise to know that Eskel wasn't pleased to see them still arguing, no matter how much Jaskier insisted it wasn't a big deal.

"I know it's a new concept, apparently to both of you, but if you're going to continue traveling together, you might want to try a fun little thing called communication," Eskel snapped, over a shared meal. Jaskier flushed deep red, eventually escaping the conversation under the pretext that he was supposed to play that night. Eskel let him go, with a sigh.

"He and Yen don't get along," Geralt explained. Eskel only shook his head.

"You know him better than I do, Geralt. You must know something is bothering him. You better find out what it is, and how to fix it, because I promise you, if you don't, it's going to blow up at the worst possible moment... and pray that it doesn't happen when Yennefer is there," he added. Geralt hummed, unsure what to answer, but eventually, he nodded.

He made the decision then, but it wasn’t until Eskel left them that he put it in practice.

###

"What are you doing?"

Geralt didn't bother looking up. He knew he'd find Jaskier, looking at him skeptically. Not only had he heard him walk up to him, but he could see his reflection.

"I want to see it again," he grumbled, awkwardly. "What the scrying glass showed us."

"I already know what it showed me," Jaskier protested. “I told you, it shows me walking by your side, like we always do.”

"Well, I want to see mine again," Geralt replied. "There might be something we've missed."

"Ha, as if."

But the bard didn't protest, and they both sat before the scrying glass, staring at their reflections until the mirror-like surface started to shimmer, distorting the light from behind them into something almost like a liquid. That's when Geralt saw it again... his destiny. Searching for something, or someone... Always searching. Jaskier didn't seem to be around, however, and no matter how long Geralt stared, or directed his thoughts toward the bard, the image didn't change. His destiny self kept riding on, sometimes walking alongside Roach, sometimes going into and out of towns, but always... always alone.

Jaskier had been snippy lately, but this time he seemed to make an effort to restrain himself as he looked away from the glass. He took a few breaths, his pulse quickening with anticipation before he broke the silence, but it was enough to distract Geralt from his solitary future. He waited, but when the bard didn't say anything, he spoke first.

"We can probably stop looking for Yennefer," he told him. Jaskier seemed surprised, but he didn't respond directly.

"Actually... I think... I haven't been fair to you about this. I guess you know her a lot better than I do. Why don't you tell me why you need to find her so? I think I could be on board with this if I knew..." he swallowed, eyes darting away from Geralt, indecisive, before finishing with, "If I knew why."

Geralt hummed, considering it. Jaskier's destiny was to walk with him, or so he'd said before. He was clearly intent on fulfilling that destiny, if he was willing to learn about Yen... He sighed, closing his eyes. This would mean telling Jaskier about the djinn, however. About what really happened that day, about his bond with the sorceress. And knowing him, he probably wouldn't like that one bit.

Geralt looked up at him once more. According to his own solitary destiny, Jaskier... was going to die. If he didn't die, he was going to leave him, but time had proven that Jaskier was not easy to get rid of, and Geralt wasn't so lucky as to think a friend of his wouldn't suffer a terrible fate anyway. He cleared his throat.

"The thing with Yennefer is..." he started, and Jaskier perked up immediately, cheeks reddening with surprise, and pleasure, and walked closer to sit beside Geralt through this tale.

Geralt indulged him.

###

Despite Jaskier's begrudging agreement, Geralt wasn't in a rush to find Yennefer, or to go anywhere in particular. They had to keep moving to earn their livings, but other than that, he tried to stay out of trouble as much as possible. Or as much as Jaskier's reputation allowed, at any rate. And for once, it was... almost fun. He'd been holding information from Jaskier for so long, trying to keep him at arm's length, but now that he knew Jaskier's future was already doomed, that changed things.

Jaskier was eternally curious, despite his age. He had been bitter about Geralt and Yennefer's relationship, as he'd predicted, but he hadn't gone back on his word to help Geralt find her now. He'd offered to write to her in Geralt's favor, even, if they ever came across a city big enough to have a mage that could communicate a message to her. After this, however, he'd launched into so many questions that for days on end, it felt like all Geralt would do was talk. He wasn't used to it, and sometimes Jaskier would allow him some reprieve, composing and singing as usual, but he'd stayed quiet a lot more often.

Geralt had found himself talking about Eskel the most. Jaskier had asked about him, about their childhood together, about his siblings in general, about Kaer Morhen. There was so much the bard didn't know after so long, and so much he'd only read about in his books... Geralt had laughed at him for quite a few things, but there was no denying that the bard had spent literal decades trying to learn more about him — finding out he knew about the sacking of Kaer Morhen had been a surprise, and not a pleasant one. Yet, finally getting to talk about it, and get it off his chest, was unexpectedly comforting.

This wasn't the only change. In the following months, as they kept moving north — Jaskier had insisted that his destiny looked like it pointed them towards the north, and Geralt's own destiny depicted him wearing his winter cape — they slowly started to talk more about... themselves. Jaskier had always talked about himself in spades, but as he'd grown, he'd started to brag less and less, and share more anecdotes than anything else. Now, he shared personal stories, and more about his family than Geralt had ever known, perhaps in return for being able to hear about Witchers so much, Geralt wasn't sure. He talked about his own share of personal feelings, and that... that was very new to both of them. It didn't happen every day, but every so often, it would just so happen that they would both be in a particular mood and decide to bond over a memory or two from their past, perhaps accompanied by a tank of ale, or a cup of tea if they were on the road. It was still rather warm for tea, but the longer this went on, the more the autumn started to creep up on them at night.

Jaskier still seemed to have some reserves about some things, however. More than once, Geralt had returned from a hunt to find the bard idly staring at his destiny in the scrying glass. Sometimes he was playing, sometimes writing, sometimes he was just looking at the glass... but whatever he was seeing, it clearly bothered him to some extent. Not enough to leave Geralt's side, perhaps, but enough to worry him. Geralt asked a couple of times, but upon receiving no answers, he decided to let it rest, lest Jaskier decide to ask about his own lonely destiny.

###

It all came to a stop rather suddenly.

Jaskier hadn't been spying, not intentionally at least, but he'd overheard people talking when he'd taken a break from a performance. It hadn't taken him long to put two and two together.

"I didn't think Nilfgaard would actually do it!" he'd cried when he'd sat in front of Geralt to eat.

He seemed genuinely disturbed, but it still took Geralt several minutes to get him to say what he was getting at. And boy, did Jaskier have thoughts about it all... It came out disjointed, much more than Jaskier ever was. Always so full of words, and yet, they all flew out of the window whenever he was truly worried... Except this time it wasn't Geralt he was worried about.

Cirilla, huh.

Geralt had avoided Cintra for years, and he didn't often travel around that part of the Continent, so news of the baby's gender hadn't reached him. It felt strange, to know that he had a surprise daughter, and not a surprise son... but what felt even stranger was the knowledge that Jaskier knew Cirilla, and knew her well. Someone had to keep an eye on her, he'd said as an excuse. Geralt wasn't sure how he felt about that, but he let it slide for now — there were more pressing matters.

Jaskier was insistent that Geralt couldn't just ignore Ciri —as he called her — that she was clearly his destiny too, even if the mirror didn't show her, and that he couldn't just leave the child in the middle of a war when he could protect her. Geralt knew he was right, of course, but it was his wording that bothered him... Cirilla wasn't in the mirror either, and he wasn't sure anymore what that meant. Was she going to die as well? He felt sick to his stomach as he finally voiced these concerns to Jaskier, but the bard took it remarkably well. His destiny, he argued, was to walk alongside Geralt. Who was to say when he'd die, or when _she_ would? Geralt had a longer lifespan than they would, after all, so maybe Geralt's destiny was just further ahead in the future?

He still insisted that he wanted to travel together, that he wanted to use his life to get to fully know Geralt... While he didn't sound sincere when he assured Geralt that he wasn't afraid of death, Geralt didn't push him. If his destiny was to watch everyone around him die... then so be it.

They set out toward Cintra the very next morning.

###

Jaskier had always been a strange human. Not only did he choose of his own volition to follow Geralt around when he was but a child, barely of age, but he stayed by his side for decades, wasting the prime of his human life in dangerous adventures with a Witcher. Jaskier, who found Geralt annoyingly silent and rude. Jaskier, who had pestered him to talk, and to be nice. Jaskier, who still held his breath whenever Geralt appeared out of nowhere, startled, but also Jaskier, who would stare at the Witcher with the scent of lust surrounding him, whenever he thought Geralt couldn't tell. Jaskier, who had never, not once, propositioned the Witcher despite all of this. So yes, he was a confusing human, and Geralt had never been sure of what he wanted from him, if anything at all aside from some monster hunting stories for his songs.

He got to know Jaskier better, though, on their way up to Cintra. Arguably, they got to know _each other_ better.

Geralt had never been convinced of Jaskier's theory that maybe the scrying glass was showing them a really distant future and that's why he was alone in it. Knowing there was a war brewing, that only made him more sure of his own theory — the humans in his life wouldn't live through it, and he was probably looking for Yennefer, the only one with chances to still be alive after the worst of it. She wasn't tied to a court, or a certain political power, but that didn't mean she wouldn't participate. If Geralt knew her at all, she'd be there, either stirring mischief, and profiting from it, or helping one of the causes, whichever benefitted her the most.

And he was going to be in the middle of it as well — Cirilla needed his help, and he had, after all, bound her to him. Even if it was unwittingly, there was a difference between letting her grow up with her family and not taking responsibility when her family would be there no longer.

It was terrifying, of course. He wouldn't have admitted that to Jaskier, under normal circumstances, but how do you comfort someone who has just found out when his day of reckoning would be? That was also a new feeling, having to comfort someone mourning their own death. Geralt certainly had comforted his fair share of people mourning others, but never someone like this. He'd comforted his own brothers, surely. But never a friend.

That was the thing that managed to get Jaskier by, however. He'd smiled, he'd smiled so much when Geralt had said that. He hadn't asked, but Geralt knew what that meant to Jaskier. He hadn't wanted to call him a friend before, even though he most definitely felt that they were, but... saying it made it official. People would know him as the Witcher's friend, and Geralt had always tried to avoid tying Jaskier to him the best he could. He'd already messed up with Yennefer, and Ciri. No need to put Jaskier through that as well. But it made him happy, and now was already too late, so... Geralt did.

Even though he wasn't sure that was the right word for what they were, anymore.

###

Jaskier was acting stranger and stranger. It could have been said that learning one was about to die would be enough reason to be different, but Geralt knew him better than that, and Jaskier was definitely acting even stranger than he usually did. Geralt wasn't oblivious to the fact that the bard found him attractive, of course, but it seemed to happen so often lately, that he'd almost grown used to the constant undercurrent of arousal in his scent, the gentle but insistent way it wormed its way into his clothes when they slept — sharing a bedroll was almost a necessity by this point in the season, and anyway, Geralt found himself treasuring the little moments with Jaskier before... before.

And it put Geralt in a difficult position, really. Because he could grant him that wish. It wouldn't even be a hardship to do so. But Jaskier would take it as pity, and as he'd expressed many times before, he wasn't lacking in potential partners, and he wouldn't settle for anything less than he deserved. A pity fuck in the middle of the cold, hard forest ground, wasn't what he deserved. Not that Geralt would be opposed. He didn't want to fuck Jaskier out of pity, he wasn't even sure what Jaskier himself wanted. Perhaps he just thought Geralt was good looking, Melitele knew why. But if he hadn't said anything in over twenty years, he probably wasn't interested in fucking Geralt... or just didn't want to mess with their friendship. The bard had considered Geralt a friend from the very beginning, or at least that's what it seemed like. Many people didn't fuck friends. If Geralt had those, he probably wouldn't fuck them either. He hadn't fucked Jaskier, right? That had to count. Even if he wasn't opposed to the idea.

He kept quiet.

They arrived at Cintra almost at twilight. The gates weren't closed yet, however, and they managed to avoid being caught until they reached the castle. Geralt hadn't really expected a welcome party, but the silence in the perimeter could only mean one thing — everyone was busy inside. Straining his ears, he soon realized there was some sort of event going on. There was music, and talk, and the strong scent of inebriated men. Food, and the cluttering of chalices and plates. Jaskier shrugged when Geralt told him this, out of ideas.

Jaskier insisted enough to convince Geralt of just arriving in peace, letting Calanthe know what he wanted to do beforehand. It would matter very little what Calanthe answered, Geralt thought to himself as the Queen raged against him, going on and on about how she'd raised the child after the death of Pavetta and Duny, about how he had no right to take Cirilla from her. Geralt appeased her, telling her it would only be for the duration of the war. That he would protect her, and take her with him to Kaer Morhen for the winter, where she would be safe, where she wouldn't have to see the horrors of battle, as she was still just a child. But it didn't matter whether Calanthe agreed or not, and they both knew it. If they were right, and Nilfgaard attacked as soon as it seemed they would, Cintra would fall. And with Calanthe dead, Geralt would be the only one left to take care of the young Cirilla — whether anyone involved wanted him to.

The decision was taken for them when a servant interrupted their conversation, nervously pointing out that Nilfgaardian troops had been spotted. For a fraction of a second, nobody spoke. Calanthe turned to Geralt, torn. She sighed.

"How ironic, that so many years back I wanted your help, and came to regret it," she said, sounding more tired than she had before. "And now, I find myself forced to take it, despite not wanting to."

"I'll take care of her," Geralt promised.

"Mousesack!" Calanthe called, and the mage stepped forward, solicitous. "Show the Witcher and the bard where Cirilla is."

"Your Majesty," Mousesack replied, bowing, but Eist stopped him.

"Wait," he called. "Look at her... She doesn't need to know yet, does she?"

Geralt looked through the door, into the banquet hall. People were dancing, younglings. For a moment, he wondered if he’d be able to recognize her, but soon he realized he shouldn’t have worried. She was the spitting image of her mother, and when he next glanced at Calanthe, he could tell she saw her daughter in her every single day, and that having to lose her as well was crushing.

“I’ll keep her safe,” he insisted. Calanthe looked at him, startled, and it seemed like everyone held their breath, but nothing happened. She nodded, and looked back at her, as if trying to imprint her image into her mind.

No one interrupted her.

###

Mousesack showed them to a room where they could stay. It wasn’t anything fancy, not that Geralt had expected it to begin with. If things went the way they seemed they would, he wouldn’t be staying in Cintra much longer, anyway.

Jaskier, on the other hand, seemed dedicated to nitpicking at every single detail of the room. The curtains were old, the bedsheets needed another wash, there was dust on the bookshelves, the books were so old they were unreadable, the chair looked like it would collapse under their weight, they better be treating Roach better than this… Geralt agreed, at least on the last point, but he knew better than to interrupt. He was already familiar with Jaskier nervous rants, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on with him.

If everything went right, tomorrow would be the day he’d meet his maker. Geralt himself didn’t know how to feel about it. Jaskier wasn’t a child, but he was young, right? For a human? But he wasn’t a soldier. No matter how much he’d insisted that he would accompany Geralt to Cintra, and that he wanted to care for Ciri as well, there was no way that Jaskier wouldn’t be unprotected in the middle of a battle, if it came to that. Geralt was hoping that Calanthe would let them leave before the city was taken, but it all depended on the morning’s battle.

Jaskier didn’t eat that night, much as he tried to. He was evidently trying to keep up appearances, but Geralt ended up eating the rest of his meal instead. He had refused to leave him alone through the night, knowing full well that the bard needed the company before dawn. He wasn’t as bothered by tears as people seemed to think he was, and he wasn’t that much of a coward to leave a man alone before his death. Jaskier had quieted down after a while, but now it was even more obvious just how scared he was. How fragile he looked, holding his lute close for comfort, as if it might be the last time he would get to do so. And it might as well be...

“I want Mousesack to take a look at the scrying glass,” Jaskier said all of a sudden, breaking the silence in the room. Geralt tilted his head.

“So he can find out when he’s going to die as well?”

“No,” Jaskier clicked his tongue, unamused by Geralt’s dry tone. “Because you said a mage would be able to make the magic more precise. And I want to know why I’m missing from your destiny, and why Ciri is missing from your destiny, but Yennefer isn’t.”

“Hold on,” Geralt frowned. “ _Nobody_ is in my destiny. I told you. I see myself, looking for something. Since you aren’t there, and neither is Ciri, that only leaves…”

“But that means that Yennefer could be dead as well,” Jaskier frowned. “What makes you so sure that you’re looking for her, and not someone else, or something else?”

To this, Geralt had no answer. At a loss, he shrugged and agreed when Jaskier jumped up to go find Mousesack. He didn’t see what he was hoping to find, not really, but if he wanted to cling to the smallest hope that he might live, Geralt wasn’t going to stop him. Wanting to live was nothing to be ashamed of, and the gods knew Jaskier wasn’t a stranger to being pathetic in order to get out of a situation.

Mousesack, however, seemed to get the complete opposite impression. He laughed upon hearing their story, initially making Jaskier recoil, and he didn’t seem to even realize this until Geralt growled at him, sobering him quickly. He looked between them, shaking his head in something like amusement.

“Well, where is that scrying glass then? Really, Geralt, you of all people should know that destiny will do anything to make you play into it at some point, even lie. Think about it, why would Jaskier’s destiny be so different from one image to another? It shouldn’t matter where you look for it.”

When this didn’t bring any light to the situation, Mousesack sighed, setting the scrying glass on the wall with a gesture and looking into it with a frown. He muttered a few words in Elder, and after a moment, he seemed pleased as the surface shimmered, and the carvings around the wooden frame lit up ever so slightly. He motioned for them to get closer.

Both Geralt and Jaskier stared into their destinies for a long time. Jaskier’s tears started again after a few moments, and although Geralt didn’t cry, he could sympathise with the immediate surge of relief that coursed through him upon seeing the new images, rich in details now.

“What is it, then?” asked the mage when they started to come back to themselves. Jaskier blinked tears away, a smile on his lips.

“The Path,” he answered without hesitation. “Our destiny is the Path. Together or separate, we’re both meant to roam the Continent, isn’t that right?”

“I see the stories of Master Jaskier aren’t unfounded,” Mousesack agreed, with a little satisfied smirk. “You certainly know how to find a common theme.”

“Thank you, Mousesack,” Geralt added, quietly. The mage simply smiled wider.

“It was my pleasure. I had never seen such a beautiful scrying glass. I can see it’s not meant for me, but please tell its owner that I much admire it.”

Mousesack excused himself then, deactivating the runes and placing the scrying glass back where it had been.

If Jaskier broke down into tears, and if he chose to do so straight into Geralt’s arms, that was only for them both to know, and no one else.

###

He hadn't expected to like her.

He wouldn't go as far as to say he wasn't supposed to, children were not that difficult to like, but he hadn't _expected_ it. Still, the young Cirilla — or Ciri as she liked to be called — was very easy to like. She was funny, and witty, and the influence of Eist was clear in her, just as well as Calanthe's stubbornness and eye for detail. She was anxious when they met her, in the early morning before her grandparents left for battle. The princess hadn't begged them to stay then, hadn't begged when they told her to trust Geralt to care for her if things took the wrong turn, but she did beg when they were hugging her before they left, probably thinking herself safe from being heard. Geralt had heard her, though, and for a fleeting moment, wondered whether it would have been more merciful to never have let her know her family.

He didn't wonder for long. The child was clearly not used to life on the Path, but she was a quick learner and, evidently, had lived comfortably until then. No matter how he had come to be her parent, that was something Geralt wanted for any child of his. Comfort. Family. Stability. He already knew he wouldn't be able to offer the last of those, but as she walked closer to him, and offered her hand tentatively, he vowed to always provide her with the other two, from now on. He placed a soft kiss on her knuckles, and winked at her, and she chuckled. Her eyes stared into his own, the curiosity of a child still in them. She didn't reach out to touch his face, she wasn't that young anymore, but he knew she would have questions. It would be a little like meeting Jaskier all over again, he supposed. Hopefully, this time he'd have a better idea of what to do with a human child that followed him around.

She was already comfortable with Jaskier, who had apparently played at court for them before, and even composed songs for some of her birthdays. She spent some time with him that morning, but it soon became clear that it wouldn't be easy to distract her from what was going on out on the battlefield.

"Do you think they'll be okay?" she asked Geralt hours later, when her grandparents still weren't back, and no news had come to their ears. He tilted his head.

What would a young Jaskier have wanted to hear? He had always wanted the truth, no matter what. Oh, he'd been lenient with his own creative license, but he'd wanted to know so much...

"No," he replied eventually. "I don't think so, Ciri. I'm sorry," he added.

It seemed to be the right thing to say, thankfully. She nodded, pensively, only turning away when her eyes started to fill with tears. She didn't answer, but she didn't throw a fit in anger, or dissolve into sobs. She wiped her face discreetly and stared out of a window for a while.

"Is that why you're here now?" she asked after a while. Geralt nodded. "Grandmother says you're my destiny. What does that mean?"

"It means I'm destined to care for you like I would for my own child," he told her. Jaskier, who had been mostly quiet that morning, except whenever Ciri asked him something, lifted an eyebrow almost teasingly.

"My parents died when I was a baby," Ciri said.

"They did."

"Did you ever meet them?"

"Yes. A few months before you were born, we met. I was there when they got engaged," he told her.

"Grandmother never wants to talk about that!" she exclaimed, finally turning her attention fully to him, and Geralt wondered how much it would be safe to disclose. Before he could decide, however, a shadow crossed her face. "She will be very cross if you tell me, though."

"Your grandmother has been cross with me ever since that night," Geralt snorted. "Don't worry on my account."

"Is it because your destiny is tied with mine?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Is it your fault?"

"Yes."

"What did you...?"

She never got to ask. Perhaps ironically, news of Calanthe's return reached them then, and the entire conversation was quickly forgotten.

###

Ciri was too distraught to pack, but there was no time to lose. Mousesack was busy protecting the castle for now, so Geralt tasked Jaskier with finding a servant that knew where Ciri's things were, and could help them pack the absolute essentials onto Roach. He would go meet them there, but before that, there were two things he needed to do.

The first was to slip into the room where Calanthe laid, before she passed away. Her eyes didn't open to meet his, but her heart was still beating, and her breathing changed ever so slightly to acknowledge him. He sighed.

"I will take care of her," he murmured. "That, I can promise you. I won't let anything happen to her."

Calanthe didn't answer, but her eyelids fluttered ever so slightly open. Her head tilted downwards a fraction, which Geralt took for a wordless thank you before she stopped moving once more. He left without looking back.

Finding Ciri wasn't difficult after that. She was in the same place he'd left her, in her room with Jaskier and a maid. He knelt next to where she was sitting, now wrapped in a travel coat. It looked expensive, and easily recognizable, but judging by the way she gripped it, it wasn't the best moment to suggest leaving it behind. With a look at Jaskier, he made sure another one would be packed, just in case.

"Hey, Ciri?" he whispered, trying to catch her eyes. She looked at him, but she seemed far away. He placed a hand on her arm to hopefully bring her back to them. "It's going to be okay. We're going to get away safely, alright? You, Jaskier and I are going to go on a bit of an adventure for a little while, and then I'll take you to meet the rest of my family. You don't have to, but if you like them, they can be your family too," he added. "None of us are real siblings," he admitted, even more quietly. "We have all lost parents, but we love each other, and we take care of ours. And now you're one of ours."

"I wanted to be one of us," she whispered, her voice hitching with her breath, stuck in her chest. "I was supposed to stay here, be the princess, and then the Queen..."

"I know, Ciri. But come the morning, Cintra will be no longer. It will exist under the rule of Nilfgaard, and if you want to wait for an opportunity to come back, the most important thing you need to do first is survive."

"I don't know how to survive! I know history, and mathematics, and music theory!" she cried. Geralt heard Jaskier coming closer to sit by her, pulling her into a side hug.

"When I joined Geralt for the first time, I only knew those as well," he told her. She looked at him. "You know a lot about ruling a kingdom, too, which I didn't know about! You already have an advantage on me," he winked. "Geralt taught me everything I know about surviving, Ciri. He'll teach you too. He's a really good teacher, if you know how to listen."

"Do you?"

"Listen? Oh, I'm a terrible listener. You should ask him, sometime!"

This at least got a giggle from her, though Geralt wasn't sure if that was setting the best kind of precedent. But it was clear she liked Jaskier, and soon enough, they were ready to leave, so the time for questions was over, for now.

They were gifted with extra horses, so that they could all ride away if necessary. Geralt inspected them briefly, but they seemed in good health, and Ciri seemed familiar with them, so he didn't object. It would be a lot easier on Roach if she didn't have to carry all of their packs on her own, too.

"What will you name her?" Jaskier asked Ciri as they prepared her new ride. Ciri smiled.

"She already has a name. She's Diamond. The one you're riding is Hyacinth."

"Oh! A pretty name for a pretty mare," Jaskier admired.

For a moment, it seemed like they would get through it mostly in silence, but Ciri stopped them before they could leave the stables entirely.

"Before we go," she started, hesitant. Jaskier nodded encouragingly. "I just..."

"Out with it, darling, we're in a rush today," Jaskier pressed. She looked between them, and then asked:

"Who's Yennefer?"

It wouldn't have been impossible for her to have met the mage before. Yennefer had, after all, visited noble courts before. But something told Geralt that this had nothing to do with that. He looked up at Jaskier, who seemed just as startled as he felt, and hesitated before answering.

"Yennefer is... someone we know. And the more I find out about you, the more I think you two should meet," he added, as an afterthought. Jaskier, who had frowned for a moment, seemed to rethink his reaction.

"Didn't you say she wanted to be a mother, and whatnot?" he mumbled, definitely too quiet for Ciri to hear, but not for Geralt, who rolled his eyes and simply led the horses out of the stable.

Ciri didn't ask more right then, but she also couldn't have. They had barely reached one of the exits toward the city walls when all hell broke loose, and Geralt had no time to waste on wondering how or why the people in his destiny kept also getting entangled among themselves.

###

"Let me see if I got this straight," Jaskier insisted, not loudly, but definitely pitchy with anxiety. "Your child can screech things into submission with the magical forces of evil, just like her mother. And you think getting Yennefer involved will help because... what again?"

"Hey! I thought it was pretty useful!" Ciri interjected before Geralt could answer. "At least we managed to get away from that... creepy man. The one with the helmet, and the bow..."

"Yes, dear, it was very impressive, of course," Jaskier reassured her, patting her back gently. "But I still want to hear your dad's reasoning, fully, for once."

They were sitting, huddled together for warmth as Geralt cooked their dinner using only igni, and no actual fire, lest it give away their location. They were still too close to Cintra to do that safely. He sighed.

"Remember Pavetta?" he settled for. "She nearly destroyed the castle that one time. If Ciri is a fraction as powerful as her mother, and she might be even more, she will need someone to teach her how to control it... Witchers can wield magic, but not to this extent. Mages, on the other hand..."

"Alright. But aren't there schools for that kind of thing? I'm just asking, really, why Yennefer? I know you two have to talk, and whatnot, but I don't know if I trust her with Ciri."

"Yes, of course, why didn't I think of that," Geralt mocked him, tired, and just as cold as them, and wanting nothing but to stop arguing about this. "Let's send her to a school while she's being hunted by the literal Nilfgaardian army. I'm sure that won't be problematic."

Ciri snorted.

"You two are like Calanthe and Eist," she told them, leaning into Jaskier to snuggle closer for warmth, and missing entirely the way the bard’s face flushed immediately at her words. Geralt looked away before he could laugh at him. "I'm sure it'll be fine if this Yennefer lady teaches me magic, and Geralt can stay around and oversee it, right? You're the one who gets along with her, right?"

"That's... one definition," Jaskier admitted, when Geralt didn't answer. "In any case, we would have to find her first."

Ciri seemed content with that, so Geralt kept quiet. Jaskier kept quiet too — at least until they were the only ones awake, at which point Jaskier wriggled away from Ciri for long enough to crawl closer to where Geralt was making sure their things were as packed as possible, in case they had to run.

Jaskier sat next to him, and the warmth from his body was a welcomed change from the cold ground, or the tree bark behind his back. He sat there for a second, breathing shallowly through his mouth, and then sighed. His breath was shaky, creating a wobbly puff in the air that, in the semi-darkness, only Geralt was able to see.

"Jaskier?"

"I lived," Jaskier said as an explanation.

"For now," Geralt agreed.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he groaned, but his frame shook slightly with laughter. Geralt allowed himself a half smile, knowing the starlight was barely enough for his human companions to see his outline. Jaskier reached out blindly to try and find him, so Geralt leaned closer as well. "It's such a peculiar feeling, being alive when I thought I would be dead tonight. I said my goodbyes to the night sky last night, yet here I am..."

"I bet the moon is thrilled."

"You're not going to ruin it for me, Witcher," Jaskier laughed, breathlessly. "I thought I would die tonight, and I was ready for it... Scared shitless, yes, but I thought I'd done it all. The last few months with you have been... some sort of fever dream, really. I got to know you so much better than I had ever hoped! And I thought that was what I wanted."

"Wasn't it?"

"Gods, it was," he rushed to say. "It absolutely was, but the thing is... I'm not finished. I still have much to ask you. And since I'm here, I can still help you find Yennefer, like I promised I would. So... I suppose it's for the best that I'm still around, huh?"

"Hmm."

"Now you have Ciri," Jaskier continued, changing the topic. "You're a good father already, you know? It's sweet. I've always known you were good with kids, but I'd never really seen it in person, not to this extent."

"Kids are... honest," Geralt admitted. "They lie, sometimes, but... They're not always good at it. They're curious, and they're almost brutally honest with what they want, especially children who are used to having people to care for them, who aren't afraid of the world yet."

"Ciri is… probably about to learn to be afraid of the world, Geralt."

"She's going to have to learn a lot. But I think we can trust her. She trusts us."

"We'll have to keep so many eyes on her," Jaskier mused, a smile playing at his lips. "I've never been parent material, so I suppose it's a good thing that's your job..."

"So, you're really staying, then," Geralt interrupted him, before he could start babbling about something embarrassing. Jaskier looked up at his silhouette, despite the darkness.

"I am," he assured him. "I said I would. My destiny is The Path, too... you know that."

"You don't sound too happy, to finally know what your destiny is," Geralt pointed out.

"Hmm."

For a moment, Jaskier did keep quiet. Their things were finally packed, and their bedrolls were waiting for them, with Ciri, but... Geralt wasn't an idiot. He knew they still had something left unsaid between them tonight. He'd found with time that, whenever Jaskier was quiet, that was when he should be heard the most. Even if it took a while to get him to say whatever it was he wanted to hide.

"Out with it, Jaskier," he prompted. The bard jumped a little, cheeks turning redder.

"It's nothing."

"We've been ignoring this issue for long enough. Just... out with it," he insisted.

"Geralt..."

"I know the general gist already, you must know that, right?" he continued, starting to wonder if he'd misread the bard during all these years.

"Oh Melitele..."

"Is it... you know, just a sex thing? Melitele knows I've seen you seduce more people than you have hairs in your body, and you know I'm not a prude," he pushed a little more. Jaskier pinched him, but he was laughing.

"Melitele knows that's a lie. I'm very gifted when it comes to hair, and you, my dear, dear Witcher, know this very well."

Geralt knew. They'd seen each other naked more times than they could count. He waited then, since Jaskier was finally talking.

"Only you would think I wouldn't have said something, if it was just sex. You know I don't subscribe to the idea that sex ruins friendships — no, if that was the case, I would have jumped on your bed already. Perhaps not at the very beginning, mind, you still were kind of intimidating back then... but certainly later on."

"Then?" Geralt rasped. Jaskier smiled, torn between sadness, and relief.

"What kind of question is that? Dear Witcher, I'm in love with you, of course."

Nothing had ever been less 'of course' in his life, Geralt couldn't help but think, but the relief that washed through him upon hearing the words was undeniable.

"I know that nice sentiments like this are not your cup of tea, however, so I keep them to myself. What did Eskel say? We should know what the other needs from us if we're going to keep traveling together? Well, you should know I won't force myself upo—!"

Geralt was quick to silence him, before he could say something dumb, and he was amused to find Jaskier smiling against his lips when he bent down to press them together. They kissed, and though the moon wasn't full and bright above them, and though the damp ground was freezing cold, and their new team member, arguably their child, was sleeping next to them — it didn't matter. It was perfect anyway.

They would have time to talk about 'why' and 'since when' and 'what now', later. Right now, on the run with a child, with winter quickly gaining ground on them, it was imperative that they reached Kaer Morhen in time. They would be safe there during the winter, and their family would be able to help them afterwards. They would have time to find Yennefer, and help Ciri control her powers.

They would have time for questions, and they would have time for answers.

And all the while — of this Geralt was sure now — they would follow The Path. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed my story :D
> 
> If you did, please consider leaving kudos or a comment, they're greatly appreciated!
> 
> If you’d like to create related content based on my fic, please visit my profile for my blanket permission statement!
> 
> If you want to yell with me and share more headcanons for these dorks, you can find me at my tumblr, [lenalawlipop](https://lenalawlipop.tumblr.com/), the comments section down below, or any of the links in my profile. Don't be shy!
> 
> Love,
> 
> ~Lena


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